


Welcome, Spectre-7

by MandalorianDragonTrainer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Battle of Scarif, Bittersweet but mostly happy ending, Canon Character Death (mentioned), Childbirth, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I'm terrible at naming fics as you can tell, Intense but not graphic, Kanera Baby, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalorianDragonTrainer/pseuds/MandalorianDragonTrainer
Summary: With the threat of the Death Star looming over the galaxy, the Alliance's hour has at last arrived. But a different time has come for General Hera Syndulla...





	1. Begin

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a collection of the first two segments posted to Tumblr :)

_General Syndulla, please report to the briefing room_ … the voice echoed over Base One’s intercom system. _General Syndulla, please report to the briefing room._

Hera Syndulla pushed herself upright with a grunt, nearly knocking the ancient midwife droid attending her onto the floor. “They’re paging me,” she began to climb down from the bed. “I need to—”

“Yes, General Syndulla,” the young, freckle-faced medic sighed, steadying the midwife droid before it tipped to the ground. “But we haven’t completed your exam—”

“We can finish up afterwards,” Hera interrupted, gathering up her jacket and jumpsuit from the chair shoved in the corner of the medbay’s treatment room. If one could call it a room. In reality, it was one of multiple sections separated only by curtains, each containing nothing but a bed and a small medicine cabinet. The only thing that made this one any different from the others was the chair, which was empty today, and the dilapidated midwife droid.

“General, I highly suggest that you let us continue with the exam—” the medic protested.

“I appreciate your concern, doctor—”

“I’m not a doctor,” he squeaked.

Hera stared at kid, who upon closer observation looked no older than twenty. The wild red hair and freckles certainly didn’t help.

“Right…” she apologized, remembering that there was only one actual medical doctor on Yavin at the moment, and she was likely occupied with the shipload of rebel fighters who had just returned from a failed raid on an Imperial depot. Hera recalled seeing the battered unit being whisked into the medbay when she arrived for her exam. There was a lot of blood. Enough to make even the experienced general rather queasy.

But that was probably just her pregnancy.

Hera attempted to latch up her jacket, which was becoming quite tight over her swollen belly. Grunting in defeat, she decided to just leave it open. There was no sense in risking tearing her jacket, something that was admittedly likely, since even her comfortably baggy jumpsuit was beginning to stretch. The general offered the medic a brisk nod before striding out of the medbay toward the briefing room, adjusting her rank insignia. For a moment, she felt a twinge of guilt at walking out on the poor kid. The Alliance had gone well beyond what was required to make her comfortable. None of the sentient medics had much experience with pregnant women of any species, and 2-1B surgical droids possessed only the most basic programming concerning reproduction. Yet one day, Hera was summoned to the medbay to find a midwife droid waiting for her. Even though it was so outdated it made Chopper look fresh from the manufacturer, the mere idea that the Alliance had spent precious credits to acquire a droid they would likely have no use of again had reduced the general to tears.

Again, that was probably just the pregnancy.

Hera suspected Mon Mothma was behind it all. She remembered the empathy in the senator’s eyes when Hera had delivered the news of her pregnancy. Though Hera turned down Senator Mothma’s offer of a leave, she remained grateful for the understanding of her superior. She imagined that the Empire, or even another faction of the Alliance, wouldn’t be as accepting of a combat officer suddenly expecting a child.

“Hera!” a husky voice called through the bustling crowd of pilots, officers, technicians, and droids that swarmed the corridors of Base One. She smiled and turned to face Captain Garazeb Orrelios. The hulking Lasat put a giant paw on her shoulder.

“I thought you were seein’ the doctor?” Zeb inquired.

“I was,” Hera replied. “But they need me in the briefing room.”

Zeb frowned. “Yeah, I heard, but dontcha think they’d understand you were busy?”

“I’m sure they would, but I don’t want to take advantage of their patience.”

“You’re not takin’ advantage of anythin,’” Zeb huffed. “You’re lookin’ out—”

“This isn’t about me, Zeb,” Hera interjected rather curtly.

“I was gonna say the baby, Hera,” he stated flatly. “You said you’d head back to Lothal when you were this far along.”

“No,” she countered. “I said I’d go to Lothal when I was ready to _have the baby_. I’m not ready yet.” Hera sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Zeb… I appreciate your concern, I honestly do. But I don’t want you to feel responsible for my safety, or for the baby’s, okay?”

Zeb’s ear twitched. “I’m doin’ what Kanan would want.”

Hera’s eyes burned. “Kanan—Kanan isn’t here, Zeb.”

“Which is exactly why I gotta be the one lookin’ out for you.”

“I—I can’t keep them waiting,” Hera turned abruptly and hurried toward the briefing room, pinching her arm to keep herself from crying.

_It’s just hormones_ … she reminded herself.

Hera rushed through the crowded hallways and entered the briefing room to find Senator Mothma, General Dodonna, and several other high-ranking officials gathered around the holotable.

“My apologizes for keeping you waiting,” Hera panted, hand on her belly.

“Nothing to worry about, General Syndulla,” Senator Mothma smiled. “We’re just now getting started.”

Hera was rather relieved that the meeting ended up dealing with scheduling supply runs and training new recruits rather than the alarming developments concerning the so-called Imperial superweapon, because she found it nearly impossible to pay attention. The baby, who had been quiet all day, apparently had woken up from a nap and was seemingly turning somersaults inside her, kicking against her ribs almost incessantly. When Hera had first felt her child moved within her, she was momentarily overcome with terror. It was the first moment she truly accepted she was going to a mother—and that there would be no Kanan at her side to help raise the little one. But before long she grew to cherish every flutter, her heart swelling with love at each movement of her unborn child. However, over the past week or so the baby had become restless, heavier, making Hera more than a little uncomfortable. He or she always picked the most inconvenient times to enthusiastically kick Hera’s ribcage, and the mother-to-be found that sleeping peacefully had become nearly impossible. _What I wouldn’t give for a nice long nap…_ she thought to herself. _And a meiloorun with some bantha cheese—_

“General Syndulla?” Senator Mothma’s voice took Hera’s mind off her cravings. “May I have a word with you?” Hera realized that the meeting had ended.

“Er—yes, of course, senator,” she answered, stepping aside with her. “What is it?”

“I recall your saying that you planned to return to Lothal to have your child.”

“Yes.”

“Have you yet selected a temporary replacement commander for your squadron?”

“Yes—well, that is, I’m considered a few candidates,” Hera replied in puzzlement. “But I won’t be leaving for several more weeks, especially with everything happening the moment.”

“Hera,” Mothma said kindly, the familiar term of address signaling to Hera that the senator was speaking to her not as an official but as a friend. “You’re nearly eight months along, and Twi’lek women usually carry their children for only seven months, if I recall what you told me correctly.”

“Yes, but my child isn’t a Twi’lek—not completely, that is… the doctor tells me there is no way to tell exactly when I’m due, and it’s starting to look like I may carry as long as a human. The midwife droid says I’m nowhere near—”

“Hera,” Mothma interrupted gently. “I’m not at all ordering you to leave. Your efficiency and dedication have certainly not been affected by your circumstance. I only wanted you to be aware that you have my express permission to return to Lothal whenever you are ready.”

Hera sighed. “Thank you, senator… thank you for everything. But I won’t be leaving my squadron until absolutely necessary.”

“Understandable, general,” Mothma nodded with a smile. “You are dismissed.”

Hera returned to her quarters, plunking down on her bunk for a quick rest in between her shifts. She considered returning to the medbay to finish up her exam but decided sleep would do her more good. Exhausted, she kicked off her boots and flopped back on the stiff pillow. The Twi’lek grunted in discomfort. When off-duty, she would sleep in her bunk on the _Ghost,_ but with everything going on lately, she opted to stay in her assigned quarters, even if they were rather uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, it was evident to Hera that she wouldn’t be getting any rest. The baby was still kicking and squirming about. At least if she didn’t sleep, she couldn’t have any more of the nightmares—unlike any she ever had before. Kanan had told her once that women carrying Force-sensitive children reported experiencing strange dreams and visions during their pregnancies, as if the unborn child were sharing its abilities with its mother. She prayed that wasn’t the case, her heart beginning to race. What if the baby really was Force-sensitive? What is he or she chose the Jedi path, as their father had? Would they suffer his fate?

The baby jabbed its heels against Hera’s abdomen, eliciting a soft yelp from her. She wondered if the child sensed her distress. “Please, baby…” she mumbled. “Settle down, it’s all right, I promise…” Not for the first time, she began to worry that the little one was running out of room to grow properly, one of the many potential hazards of a hybrid pregnancy. Twi’lek infants were so small when they were born, dwarfed by their human counterparts. Hera’s belly had already grown bigger than that of any Twi’lek woman she knew on Ryloth, and yet the midwife droid predicted that she was still a few weeks away from full term. If her child took after its father’s kind, would he or she be forced into the world prematurely?

“It’d be different if you were here, Kanan…” she whispered, sighing heavily. Almost every night, she envisioned a world where Kanan never had to leave her. He would have been so excited. She could just see him talking nonsense to the baby in the most inappropriate settings, ignoring the stares he would inevitably receive. How clearly she could imagine him smiling widely when he felt the little one kick against his hand. Closing her eyes, she could even feel the waves of peace and security he would radiate to the baby, lulling him or her to sleep even before birth.

“You wouldn’t have let me skip out on the exam, would you, love?” Hera chuckled, exhaling softly. “You were meant to be a father, you know that?” Fondly, she recalled the way Kanan had been with Ezra and Sabine. The way he had talked to them, taught them, guided them, guarded them. Playful and teasing—embarrassing, even—but firm when necessary, yet still gentle and kind all the while. Always warm, always comforting, always strong. Always there. Hera’s own father was hardly a model parent, though he was now doing his best to make it up to her. But Kanan? Kanan had been the greatest dad a kid could hope for. _The greatest husband, too…_

Kanan had been Hera’s partner in every sense of the word. They brought out the best in one another—she inspired him to find a purpose and fight for it, and he reminded her to keep her eyes on the things that really mattered. When he was alive, she never allowed herself to be distracted by dreams of what their future might hold. But now that he was gone, she dreamed of that lost future ever night. And every night it burned down in flames.

The baby kicked again, though not as roughly. This time, the sensation brought a soft, sad smile to Hera’s face. There would be no future with Kanan, but that didn’t mean she had no future at all. Kanan had certainly made sure of that much. Hera remembered the way he had acted in the weeks and days leading up to his death. He hadn’t wanted to leave her side. He almost seemed anxious. Sabine told her that Kanan began to panic when her X-wing crashed, rashly deciding to leave the group to rescue her. Kanan never panicked. Hera sighed, deciding _anxious_ wasn’t the right word. He had been—purposeful. Her memories of her final hours with Kanan were blurred, courtesy of blasted Governor Pryce, but if there was one thing she could recall it was how resolute Kanan had been. Focused. Determined to let nothing touch her.

Only a few days after she learning she was pregnant, Hera realized that Kanan had known she was carrying their child. Of course, he knew. Her Jedi sensed the little light inside of her when it was barely more than a flicker, before any technology could have detected its existence. A tear trailed down her cheek, not of grief but of joy. The thought always brought her comfort. Kanan knew he had a child. In fact, he probably knew if he had a son or daughter. Kanan gave his life for Hera. He gave his life for the children of his heart. And he gave his life for the child of his blood.

His family.

Hera’s eyes drooped shut, and as she drifted off to sleep, she swore she could feel Kanan’s gentle hands resting on her abdomen, wishing their baby a goodnight.


	2. Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and fourth segments on Tumblr.

Hera groaned as the medic aided in her in sitting up on the examination table, feeling like a purrgil stuffed into a jumpsuit. Less than two days had passed since she rushed out of her last appointment with the midwife droid, yet she felt as though she had doubled in size since then. Captain Andor and the Erso girl had created quite the stir with the news they presented on the “Death Star,” so much so that there was now talk of evacuating Yavin and scattering the Alliance. The mere thought of it made Hera sick. If the reports were true, if the Empire really did possess a weapon capable of destroying entire planets, then now was not the time to run and hide like sniveling cowards. The time to fight was now, as the Erso girl said. Hera liked her spirit.

“Well, general,” the medic’s voice brought Hera back to the moment. “I know we’ve been telling you that you probably have few weeks to go, but from what I can tell, the baby is dropping down into position. Not uncommon for hybrid pregnancies to progress so rapidly, according to M-3. I suspect you should deliver any day now, but—”

“But what? Is something wrong with the baby?” Hera interrupted nervously, biting her lip. This was why she was always so eager to avoid these appointments. What if something was wrong? How could she bear the news? What is she lost Kanan’s baby, so close to—

“No, general, don’t worry, everything seems to be fine. Right, M-3?”

“Yes,” the midwife droid droned. “Both fetus and mother are in good health.”

Hera rested her hand on her rounded belly and sighed. “Oh… oh good…”

“It is my recommendation that you finalize preparations for the birth,” M-3 instructed mechanically. “I suspect your labor to begin within a standard week.”

Hera glanced at the human medic. _Had she seen this one before? How many medics did they have on rotation? What happened to the redhead she saw last time?_ “I can’t leave the base. My unit is—”

“General Syndulla,” the medic interjected frankly. “Senator Mothma has advised that the medbay staff be on standby to evacuate our patients at a moment’s notice, especially with the threat of this superweapon. You, and your baby, are our patients, too. I believe that it’s in your best medical interest to leave Yavin and return to Lothal.”

“Don’t you understand?” Hera stared intently at the medic. “If I’m not here to help fight, there may not be a Lothal. After everything my crew— _my baby’s father_ —gave to free that world, the Empire could still take it away. I _must_ be here!”

“General—”

Hera’s wrist-comm began flashing red, signaling she was urgently needed at Command, just as a voice boomed over the intercom. _All flight leaders, report to the briefing room immediately._

Hera wondered again if this baby was attuning her to the Force, for the urgency she felt at that moment was unparalleled. Her heart began to race as she rushed from the medbay, leaving the poor medic shaking her head. Something was about to happen.

The briefing room was in chaos, grim expressions plastered on the faces of the commanding officials. The flight leaders gathered together, whispering anxiously, awaiting orders. Hera rushed to the other general, who were bent over the holotable. “What’s going on?”

“A private intercepted an Imperial transmission,” General Dodonna explained. “They are reporting rebels on the ground at Scarif.”

“Erso and Andor…” Hera realized. She knew she liked them. “What’s the plan?”

“They got this far,” Senator Mothma could barely mask her smile. “It’s up to us to see them through. Admiral Raddus has already mobilized the fleet.” She nodded at a technician. “Make the announcement.”

_Attention all flight personnel. Please report to you commanders immediately. Attention all flight personnel. Please report to your commanders immediately. We have been redirected to Scarif. Pilots, you’ll be briefed by your squadron leaders en route. May the Force be with you._

Hera didn’t wait to hear the rest of the announcement, turning to the pilots under her command. “All right, you heard them, people, to your fighters! Go, go, go!”

“General Syndulla.”

Hera stopped herself from following her pilots out of the briefing room. “I have my orders, senator.”

Mon gazed at her worriedly. “Hera, are you absolutely certain about this?

Hera’s baby gave a kick.

“Yes,” the general answered. “My child will not grow up in a galaxy where the Empire reigns. I will do all I can to see that through.”

“Take the _Ghost,_ ” Senator Mothma ordered. “You know that ship better than any other. Captain Orrelios and Commander Rex will act as your gunners.”

Hera nodded. “Thank you, senator.”

The base was in an uproar as pilots and gunners raced to their ships even as mechanics and astromechs were still fueling them. Nearly every fighter was mobilized. A sense of urgency hung in the air. Everyone knew that the Alliance’s moment had at last arrived.

Hera found Zeb and Rex waiting for her by the _Ghost._

“Chopper’s already on board, warming up the engines,” Rex informed her.

“Hera,” Zeb’s green eyes were bulging. “Are you bloody crazy?”

Hera didn’t answer. “Rex, you man the nose guns, Zeb, you’re in the turret.”

The Lasat anxiously followed her as she practically waddled to the cockpit. “Hera, you can’t be serious right now!”

“I’m dead serious, Zeb,” Hera lightly touched Chopper’s dome before plunking in the pilot’s seat, strapping in for what she knew was going to be quite the ride. “Now please get to your station.”

“What would Kanan say?”

Hera gripped the controls. “I don’t know, Garazeb,” she snapped. “But I’m betting he’d tell you to listen to your general. Now get to your station this instant. We’re blasting off.”

Zeb shuffled out of the room, silent. Hera felt a jab of guilt. But apologies would have to wait until after the battle was won. She guided the _Ghost_ out of the jungle moon’s orbit, trailing behind the Y-wings of Gold Squadron and flanked by several Alderaanian blockade runners. They were nearly free of Yavin’s gravitational pull.

“Got the coordinates, Chop?”

Chopper beeped that they had just come through.

“Alliance fighters, you are clear to jump,” the raspy voice of Admiral Raddus crackled over the comm.

“May the Force be with us all…” Hera mumbled as the stars streaked blue.

 

The instant the _Ghost_ dropped out of hyperspace, Hera realized this was to be a battle unlike any she had ever seen. Ships of every imaginable type clogged the space above the tropical blue world of Scarif. The general’s heart began to race, but she scarcely noticed. This was where she was born to be.

Raddus’s orders were simple. Blue Squadron was to get through the planet’s shield gate to provide support to troops on the ground. Red and Gold Squadrons were to defend the fleet. Hera barked orders at the pilots under her command, ordering them into position. She fell into formation behind Gold Squadron, tasked with keeping any TIEs from attacking them from behind.

“Zeb, Rex!” she shouted over the _Ghost_ ’s intercom. “Keep the TIEs off Gold Squadron, don’t hold back!”

“Wasn’t planning on it, general!” Rex laughed, blasting two of the Imperial fighters.

Minutes seemed like mere seconds in the heat of battle. The _Ghost_ had only downed twenty-odd TIEs when the Shield Gate over Scarif sealed up, trapping Blue Squadron inside the planet’s atmosphere. Red Squadron drew fire from the gate’s hangar bay, clearing a path for Gold Squadron to bomb the shield. But the gate proved too heavily protected, forcing the squadrons to turn back after losing many fighters. Raddus redirected the attack to the Star Destroyers. Hera followed behind the fighters speeding at the Destroyers, providing cover fire.

Suddenly, she felt a stab of pain in her abdomen. momentarily taking her breath. _Focus, General…_ she told herself, breathing heavily. _Now’s not the time…_

“Hera, a whole swarm of TIEs are comin’ out of the hangar!” Zeb shouted.

“I see them—” Hera gasped again, another sharp pain catching her off guard. She felt the baby kick, as if it were excited. “You—you like this, little one?” she laughed, catching her breath. “Hold on tight now— _oh…_ ” The pain shot through her once again. The _Ghost_ swerved unsteadily.

“You okay up there, general?” Rex called.

“Y—yes,” she replied shakily, struggling to get in a breath. _Please not now…_

“General Syndulla, we need those TIEs out of the way!” a voice cried over the comm. It sounded like Gold Leader, but maybe it was Red Leader. Everything seemed hazy…

_Kanan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hera…”_

A chill traveled down Hera’s spine, and her heart skipped a beat. “Kanan…”

_“General, the TIEs!!!”_

Rex’s voice commanded Hera’s attention, removing her focus from the eerie moment. Maneuvering the _Ghost_ into a barrel roll, she cleared an opening for Zeb and Rex to gun down several of the enemy fighters, clipping the wings off several of them herself. The baby practically bounced.

“ _Karabast,_ Hera, the Corvette!” Zeb exclaimed. “They crashed it into the Destroyer! The gate is down!”

“I like the way Raddus thinks!” Hera smirked. The battle was nearing its end.

The intercom was buzzing with activity.

“Attention all fighters, we have the plans!”

“Sir, we’re detecting a massive object emerging from hyperspace!”

“What in the blazes _is_ that thing!?”

The voice of Admiral Raddus rose above the rest of the clatter. “All ships, prepare for jump to hyperspace!”

“Punch in the coordinates, Chop!” Hera ordered, falling into formation with surviving fighters. Her lekku twitched, as they did when a Twi’lek sensed danger was imminent. One did not need the Force to feel the horror that emanated from the dark behemoth that had manifested above Scarif.

“Coordinates set!” Hera shouted. “Jumping now!”

The _Ghost_ leapt to lightspeed, safe amongst the stars from the carnage about to unfold.

Later, Hera would learn of the destruction of the _Profundity,_ the death of Admiral Raddus, the sacrifice of countless rebel soldiers whose own escape was blocked by the emergence of Imperial reinforcements from hyperspace, and the daring escape in which the Death Star plans were whisked away aboard the _Tantive IV_ in the hands of young Princess Leia. The Force was with the _Ghost,_ one of the fortunate ships able to make the jump in time.

The Force was with them indeed, for barely a moment had passed after the jump when Hera’s water broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will consists of parts 5 and 6 from Tumblr, plus new as-of-yet unwritten material. Hope to add it before the weekend ends!


	3. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's parts 5 and 6 from Tumblr, with some new content at the end! Also, why won't AO3 let me edit the tags?

Hera leaned forward against the controls, breathing heavily. “Excellent timing, little one…” she whispered with a nervous chuckle, beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. Chopper poked her leg, inquiring as to why she was exhibiting signs of pain.

“Chop?” she laughed hoarsely. “Ready to be an uncle?”

The astromech replied smartly that no, he was not.

Zeb and Rex burst excitedly into the cockpit, the smiles on their faces fading the instant they saw their general slumped over in her seat, panting shakily. “R—Rex…” she glanced back with a wane smile. “Contact Yavin 4 and tell them to have the midwife droid ready…”

Zeb’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You’re—you’re kiddin,’ right?”

“I wish I were— _ah!_ ” Hera’s inhaled sharply, putting a hand to her belly. “Pl—please comm Sabine and t—tell her to head to Yavin… she—she promised to be there… I—I’m gonna head to the bunk— _oh!_ ” She gasped in pain, hunching over and moaning.

“Hera!” Zeb leapt to her side and guided her to the ground. “Rex’ll handle the comms.”

“Already on it,” the old clone assured.

Hera put her gloved hand in Zeb’s massive paw, squeezing it and stifling a groan as the awful pain tore through her. And it was only going to get worse. “Z—Zeb—”

“Easy,” Zeb assured in as soft a tone as he could muster, offering her an anxious grin. “We’ll get ya through this, Hera. It’ll be okay.”

Hera smiled thankfully. Good old Zeb. As an unmarried male Lasat, he possessed absolutely no experience in the world of childbirth, particularly when it came to such a radically different species—or mix of species. Yet he faithfully stood by her side over the past months, helping and supporting in every way he could. _“Hera, Kanan was my brother…”_ _Zeb embraced Hera after she tearfully announced her pregnancy to her crewmates. “I swear to you that I’ll look after you and the little’un, not matter what happens…”_

“Zeb…” Hera’s voice wobbled slightly. “Can you get me to the bunk?”

“’Course,” Zeb scooped her up and carried her down the main corridor of the _Ghost_ in two gigantic Lasat steps. Without hesitation, he ducked into Kanan’s bunkroom. Though Hera hadn’t spent a night since his death in her own room, to her it would always be Kanan’s bunk. Zeb gently set her on the bed, Chopper wheeling in after him.

The general began to breathe heavily, the time between contractions rapidly shortening, each pang more intense than the last. The minutes ticked by, though to Hera they felt like hours and hours upon end.

“Is there anything you need? I’ll get it for you,” Zeb insisted worriedly, after watching his captain suffer for nearly half an hour.

Hera drew a sharp breath, wincing through another pang. “I—I could use some water—”

Zeb was out the door before she could finish.

Chopper reached up and grabbed Hera’s hand as she screamed, startled by the severity of the next pain. “What—what’s happening, Chop…” her emerald-green eyes widened, another contraction burning through her. She racked her brain in attempt to recall what the countless holos she absorbed over the past months said about the progression of labor. _What did it mean if the contractions came quickly?_

_How long had adrenaline from battle masked the symptoms of labor?_

“I—I’m an idiot!” she gasped out, frightened by the pain. “I—I should’ve stayed!”

Zeb frantically rushed back into the bunk, spilling what little bit of water remained in the cup rather than on the floor of the corridor. “I—I’m sorry! Let me go grab—”

“No!” Hera practically squeaked. “Forget it, please don’t leave!”           

The Lasat knelt beside her and took her hand. “Breathe, remember what the droid said? You gotta breathe… I know it hurts—”

“No, no you _don’t!”_ Hera yelped, squeezing his paw as yet another contraction shredded through her. “Are we almost back!?” She changed the subject before he could respond. “Zeb, I’m scared…. I think I’m going to die!”

Zeb rubbed her back, assuring her she would be just fine, as she became sick, narrowly missing an indignant Chopper.

“Sorry, Chop…” she mumbled, shakily patting the droid’s dome.

Chopper whirred that he would forgive her so long as it did not happen again.

“Rex!” Zeb shouted. “This is happenin’ soon! Are we almost there?”

“Tell her to hold on!” the clone replied.

Hera leaned back on the pillow, struggling to catch her breath, learning to count the seconds between contractions. She tried to remember the breathing exercises she had gone over one night alone in her cabin. _I should have practiced more…_

The next pain evoked a scream from her. _“Zeb!”_

“What’s wrong?!” Zeb was practically shaking.

“Please—please hurry! _Please go faster!_ ” she wailed out in pain, choking on a sob.

Hera felt the ship emerge from hyperspace, the hum of the engines indicating that Rex was gunning it. _“Hurry, Rex, hurry!”_ she begged, no longer fighting the tears. A sense of panic was overcoming her. Never before had she experienced pain like this. Not even the torture she endured at the hands of Pryce could compare. She screamed again. Zeb started yelling.

_"Kanan!”_

Hera couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to die, of that much she was sure. How could any being bear this pain? Her body felt as though it were being ripped apart. She wailed in agony, hysterical. _“Zeb!”_ she pleaded, her native Rylothian accent rising from deep within her. _“Where’s Kanan, I need him! Get me Kanan please!”_ Kanan could help. Kanan made everything better…

Zeb’s eyes were wide as a moon. He looked terrified.

_“Please!”_ Hera shrieked, tears streaming down her face. _“I’m dying!”_

“Entering Yavin IV’s atmosphere!” Rex’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Hang—hang in there, Hera,” Zeb practically squeaked. “We’re almost there…”

Hera fell back on the bunk as she eased out of a contraction, her vision blurred, and her body coated with sweat. Any sense of rationality had since fled her, and she was murmuring incoherently in her mother tongue, begging for anything to relieve the pain. The _Ghost_ bumped as it landed unceremoniously, and Zeb scooped Hera up, racing from the ship.

“Help, help, we need a medic!” the Lasat called, gently cradling the moaning Twi’lek.

“We received your transmission,” Captain Alexsandr Kallus raced to greet his allies, flanked by two rebel crewmen carting a gurney. “What’s happened? Who’s hurt?”

“Nobody. The general’s having her baby,” Rex explained, emerging from the ramp. “We need to get her to the medbay, _now!”_

“I’ll take her myself,” Zeb grunted, shoving past the stunned crewmen.

Hera flopped her head about, trying to make sense of anything through the blinding pain. The sights and sound of the base were merely blurred lights and echoing din. Twi’leki words slipped from her tongue, asking for the presence of those long gone.

Her mother.

Her Kanan.

“General, General Syndulla? You need to breathe, ma’am? Okay?”

Hera stared at the medic, gasping, unsure how long the woman was trying to get her attention, or how much time passed since Zeb laid her on the medbay bed. “Where’s Kanan?” she pleaded. “He has to be here!”

“You need to breathe, General, you’ve worked yourself into a panic,” the woman said kindly. “Deep breaths, okay?”

Hera nodded.

“Patient dilated to nine centimeters,” M-3, the midwife droid, chirped.

“Okay, should only be a couple minutes before you can start pushing,” the doctor explained. “You’ve progressed very quickly. The stress of battle undoubtedly sent you into labor.”

“Will—will the baby be—be okay?”

“Fetal heartrate is elevated, but that is to be expected,” M-3 answered for the doctor.

_“Hera!”_ a familiar female voice cried. “Where’s Hera!?”

_“Sabine!”_ Hera answered.

“Hera!” Sabine burst through the curtain. “I’m here! I came as soon as Rex—”

“You’re here, you’re here!” the Twi’lek sobbed in relief.

Sabine fell at her side and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Hera, everything’s going to be okay, you just need to breathe…”

“Where’s Kanan?” Hera bawled. “Please, where is he?”

“Hera,” Sabine spoke softly. “He’s gone…”

“Patient dilated to ten centimeters.”

Hera didn’t even hear the midwife droid, nor did she hear the doctor telling her it was time to start pushing. She numbly laid back on the bed, a rasped sob escaping her throat as pain shredded through both her body and her heart.

Why did Kanan have to leave her? He should be here. This was his baby. This was _their_ baby. Why did he have to go?

_A strong hand grasped Hera’s left. It was so different from Sabine’s, which held her right. Powerful. Warm. Gentle. Familiar. She looked to her side, but no one was there._

_"Hera…” his voice whispered. “I’m here…”_

“General Syndulla!”

The voice snapped Hera back to reality.

“General Syndulla, look at me okay?” the medic spoke softly but firmly. “You’re going to start pushing, okay?”

Hera nodded shakily and gripped Sabine’s hand, screaming as she drew on the last primal reserves of energy she possessed. The labor had weakened her terribly, and deep down she began to doubt that she had the strength to continue…

_She felt his hand on her back_

_“Kanan…”_ she breathed, feeling feel his energy enveloping her.

_“You’ve almost made it, Hera…” he assured. “Be strong, I’m right here with you…”_

“The fetus is crowning,” M-3 reported.

“C’mon, Hera, you can do it, you’re so close!” Sabine squeezed the Twi’lek’s hand. “You’re almost there!”

The moments that followed fogged together in Hera’s mind. She could scarcely remember the pain of those final few minutes, but she remembered the voices. Voices of those in the room, offering shouts of encouragement. Voices of those far away, calling her name in confusion. Voices of those no longer of the world, whispering comforts and declarations of love. Finally, after a final wail of agony, a new voice rang clear above all the others.

A newborn cry.

Another voice followed, jubilantly delivering a declaration of triumph.

_“It’s a boy!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter will be here soon, although I'm not sure exactly when! Thank you for all the feedback, you guys are the best!


	4. Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat? I finished this??? Honestly I had no intentions of working on it tonight, but here we are. It's not as long as the other chapters, but I hope you enjoy the heartfelt fluff and my honest attempt at a happy ending.

At the sound of her son’s cries, Hera burst into rapturous sobs, stretching out her arms to receive the baby. She loved him with all her heart already, and she hadn’t even touched him.

“The infant is male, 3.34 kilograms in weight and 50.8 centimeters in length, and appears to be in good health,” M-3 stated, severing the baby’s umbilical cord.

“Congratulations, General Syndulla,” the medic placed the baby on Hera’s chest.

“He—he has _hair…_ ” Hera burst into hysterical laughter, tears of joy streaming down her face. “And it’s _green!”_ She grinned at Sabine. “Must take after you…”

Sabine could barely speak throw her own tears. “Oh Hera,” she blubbered. “He’s beautiful…”

“He is…” Hera echoed, tracing her fingers across the infant’s downy head, lingering on where the nubs of tiny lekku would be on a Twi’lek newborn. Her baby lacked any evidence of lekku, his whole scalp coated in a fine layer of green hair. His skin was pinkish-red from birth, but aside from his green-hued ears, comically large on his tiny head, it was clear he would grow to inherit Kanan’s complexion. Hera Syndulla’s baby looked _human._

He looked like his father.

Hera choked softly as the newborn hiccupped softly, cries quieting as he blinked open his eyes to gaze at his mother for the first time. “Oh Sabine…” Hera breathed. “Look at his eyes. Just look how beautiful they are…”

They were blue. Not the sparkling turquoise of his late father, the color of the sunlit sea foam, but rather a deep, dark blue, like the deepest ocean, full of life and mystery.

“They—they remind me of Ezra…” Sabine wiped the tears from her eyes, stifling a sob.

“They do…” Hera kissed the baby’s forehead, above his wispy yet angular eyebrows.

Of course, he inherited Kanan’s ridiculous eyebrows.

“May I hold him?” Sabine rubbed the baby’s silky hair.

“Of course,” Hera smiled and passed her child to the girl. The Mandalorian gazed adoringly at the tiny bundle, rocking him softly.

“I—I love him…” she whispered, glancing up at Hera with watery eyes, then back at the baby. “Your daddy would love you… your brother Ezra? He—he’d love you too…”

Hera would have broken down into fresh sobs had Zeb not burst through the curtain at that moment, followed by a chattering Chopper. The Lasat screeched to a halt, demeanor instantly changing to the closest the warrior had ever been to timid.

“Zeb,” Hera smiled brightly. “It’s a boy.”

“A boy?” an enormous grin spread across the Lasat’s face. “A _boy!”_ He sprinted out of the medbay, loudly proclaiming, _“It’s a boy, it’s a boy! Everyone, it’s a boy! General Syndulla had a boy!”_ Claps and cheers echoed in response.

Hera shook her head.

“He’s filling in for Kanan,” Sabine winked, though her voice was laced with sadness.

Zeb returned, breathless and laughing. “Sorry ‘bout that… guess I got a little excited.”

“Here,” Hera offered with a smile. “Come hold him.”

Zeb’s ears flickered as the tiny infant was placed in his burly arms, practically swallowed up in them. “Uhhh, wow…” Zeb cocked his head, giving his arms a tentative bounce. “He’s so… uhhh… so small…”

Chopper beeped.

 _“Chopper!”_ Hera scolded indignantly.

“I do _not_ think he’s ugly!” Zeb retorted with a growl. The baby began to sob. “Uh oh…”

“Here,” Hera chuckled softly, relieving Zeb of the fussing infant, who calmed once he was in his mother’s arms.

“Hera…” Sabine inquired. “What’s his name?”

Hera gazed lovingly at her child. For months, she mused over names from various worlds that held special meaning to her and wrestled with the idea of naming her child, should it be a boy, Kanan, or even Caleb, after his father. His brave, strong, kind father. The father he would never know. But she decided no—no child should bear that burden. The instant Hera saw her son’s eyes, she realized this baby, though he would always be a piece of her lost love, was not his father. No doubt, he would grow up in the shadow of his lost father and his missing spirit-brother, wondering who they were and what must be done to honor their memories She wanted her child to have a name that would remind him he was unique. A child of rebellion. Of two peoples. Of two legacies.

_“Jacen.”_

“Jacen…” Zeb repeated thoughtfully.

“That’s… that’s a Lothalian name,” Sabine realized.

“Yes,” Hera smiled. “It means _salvation._ ”

 

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Base One was still in an uproar from the Battle of Scarif, and reports were flooding in saying the _Tantive IV_ had been captured over Tatooine, its crew slaughtered, Princess Leia taken prisoner, and the Death Star plans lost. Yet Rex, Alexsandr, and even Senator Mothma all spared a moment to visit Hera and Jacen. Rebel intelligence believed the Alliance was in grave danger. General Dodonna was already beginning to evacuate all nonessential personnel and equipment to auxiliary bases. Hera was set to return to Lothal with Sabine once she was medically cleared, a sort of maternity leave.

She didn’t mind.

Jacen was bundled up in her arms, sound asleep. She gazed at him, eyes full of complete and unconditional love. The Force took so much from her. Her brother. Her mother. Her husband. Her surrogate son. But now it had given her a precious gift, someone to remind her not only of what she lost, but of what she was fighting for, and of what she had to live for.

Her own eyes began to droop, utterly exhausted. For the first time since Kanan died, she was not worried or afraid. The aching grief, which she would carry in her heart until she too joined the Force, for a moment was lifted. She was at peace.

She was happy.

Moments before she slipped off into sleep, her newborn son cradled against her heart, she felt arms wrap around her, holding her and her baby in a ring of warmth and security. A gentle, earnest kiss was pressed against her temples, and sleep overtook her.

Watching over Jacen.

With her forever.

His voice echoed in her mind, and in her heart.

_I love you…._

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the theory of Jacen being the name of Hera's little brother, but I couldn't resist working in my own take on it. I learned from a quick Google search that "Jacen" is of Hebrew origin, and I instantly thought "Ooh! A Lothal name!" And it means "the Lord is my salvation."  
> Thank you all so much for your support! I hope to post more fics in the future!


End file.
